


I’m a Loser Baby, So Why Don’t You Kiss Me

by NewWonder



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bullying, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, general fluff and crackishness, stupid bois, stupid everything, stupid title, such angst much teenage drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:25:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewWonder/pseuds/NewWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn has a shitty family. Ben has a shittier one (or so he insists).<br/>Needless to say, they hit it off.<br/>(Or, a disgustingly fluffy modern!AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The only thing more hateful than a school morning was a Monday school morning.

It wasn’t like Finn was a slacker. In fact, he took his education very seriously. He did want to break out of poverty, have a nice job in the office that paid well and didn’t involve menial labor, become a respected citizen.

Still. School just… sucked sometimes.

One of the particularly sucky parts just emerged from the corner, oozing pomp and snootiness — the school gang consisting of rich kids with nothing better to do but intimidate and beat deference into people that weren’t willing enough to kiss their asses.

And, of course, of the school’s resident emo boy.

Snoke strode first, his pretty face haughty and indifferent. Hux walked to the left, looking every bit as prim, prissy and ginger as ever. Phasma to Snoke’s right was emotionless, as usual. Her short blonde hair was sticking out like she hadn’t combed it for a while, and her baggy sports clothes weren’t a good fit for her tall figure. Despite being the only girl, Phasma somehow seemed the least feminine in the group. Even her large, clear blue eyes, the only pretty thing about her face, were so cold people rarely looked into them for a second time.

Another extremely tall and gangly dude followed them. He slouched a bit, and his gait was slightly awkward because of poor balance. Everybody knew him — well, everybody knew Snoke and Hux and Phasma, too, but they were just rich kids with respectable parents and a hobby of beating people up. (Well, Phasma was the one doing the beating. Snoke would never stoop so low as to dirty his hands, and Hux was just too much of a wussy. But it didn’t matter in the end because Phasma alone was successfully doing the work of three and then some.)

Ben Solo, though, was the son of the most influential woman in the state. (And a crazy-ass F1 driver who was relatively unimportant because come on, _governor mom_.)

Solo also had weird ears that sat perpendicularly to his skull, a huge nose, and most importantly, he did the whole gang’s homework.

In other words, he was the school’s biggest loser.

Finn himself wasn’t positioned that high on the social ladder, but he was quite sure he’d have to look down and squint hard to see Solo in his bottomless abyss of humiliation. Snoke and the gang accepted him as a servant of sorts, and never bullied him themselves, but neither did they protect him when another bully came across. Solo was always covered in bruises by courtesy of random people itching to scratch their fists, and his own clumsiness that prevented him from fighting back effectively despite the advantage in height and sometimes strength (and also made his knees and elbows frequently meet the corners). He was tall enough to slay at basketball, but he always lost the ball on the field and was prone to trip over nothing, so he was a loser in that department, too.

Solo also wore all black and possibly dyed his hair, which was _so_ 2004.

Still, he was smart. The whole gang got top marks thanks to him — probably the only reason they still kept him around.

Finn kinda felt for him. After all, he knew how much it sucked to be the outcast, despised and rejected by everyone around you.

Zeroes and Nines never liked him, despite being officially family now. Not even Slip, the one who always needed Finn’s help most, wanted to be friends with him. Zeroes and Nines said he was weak, a pussy, and Slip sided with his big bros, the way he always did.

They wanted different things, Finn and his adoptive brothers. Had different plans for the future. Theirs didn’t involve college and a job that was actually legal. And their foster parents just didn’t care enough to learn what they wanted to become. Finn wasn’t even sure they knew how many kids exactly they had adopted.

Finn was pretty certain Ben Solo had an awesome family. His parents were cool, famous, rich, and hot. They also probably loved him. But Finn had friends at school, and Solo didn’t. People that weren’t Finn’s family generally liked Finn, what with him being good at football and math and stuff, but no-one liked Solo — not even his asshat friends.

That was probably the reason why Finn bent down and held out a hand when Solo tripped over literally nothing ( _again_ ) and his notes went flying all over the floor.

Solo, on his hands and knees, jerked away from his hand, like Finn was contagious, and distrustfully eyed him while scrambling about to gather his notes. Finn shrugged and squatted down to help. The sudden rejection felt kind of bitter, but if he had been going to help in the first place, why not see it through? Of course, the kid was a douche, but he was a very sad douche, and Finn never could help himself when it came to people who needed help, whether they wanted it or not. (One of the main reasons for Zeroes and Nines’ jeers.)

He handed Solo the notes, and the latter practically tore them out of his hands, awkwardly getting up and hurrying after his mates. He was always drawing his head into his shoulders, Finn noticed, like he was expecting to be hit — or trying to become invisible. The feelings were familiar to Finn, though thankfully they never lingered.

The bell for the class rang.

“Shit,” Finn eloquently said, and broke into a run to his classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a two chapter update for you, because I love you, you precious people <3

Finn was being followed around.

It’s been a week and he still hadn’t managed to so much as see the stalker (whoever it was had been doing a good job disappearing into thin air whenever Finn looked back), but the constant feeling of eyes boring into his back was impossible to miss.

It felt like ants crawling all over him. Really cold and creepy ants.

“Hey Jess, can I borrow your mirror?” Jessika Pava, who was distractedly doodling planes all over her notepad next to him, was a friend, and also a very bad chick. Finn tried hitting on her, she hit him over the head instead, and they’d been buddies ever since.

“Famed is thy beauty, Majesty,” she snickered, but passed the mirror without any questioning.

Finn carefully positioned the mirror to examine the surroundings. The damn stalker was here, in his class — Finn physically felt his stare on him. This was getting really annoying, and Finn fully intended to uncover the damn freak.

He cautiously tilted the mirror to see the tables in the back of the class, and started.

Sitting there, in the darkest corner of the class, was Ben Solo. He was staring at Finn non-stop from under his mop of black hair, not even blinking, the tip of the pen trapped in his mouth.

Now that Finn thought about it, Solo seemed kinda distracted lately.

Finn slid the mirror over to Jessika. He and Solo needed to have words.

* * *

The freak followed him to his house. His fucking _house_.

This shit was officially getting weird.

The most difficult part was pretending Finn never noticed the tall dude dressed in all black following him around. Solo was (surprisingly) good at spying, but Finn — Finn was a street gangsta. The mommy’s boy didn’t have shit on him.

He walked down the street in the chillest way possible, looking like there were zero goth stalkers following him around. Turned around the corner. Stopped and stomped his feet a bit — loudly at first but then quieter and quieter, so that Solo wouldn’t suspect anything.

He threw himself at the unsuspecting Solo the moment he turned around the corner, and pushed him against the wall, squeezing his throat — firmly, but not hard enough to choke. Who knew, maybe Solo was just randomly taking a walk in the general direction of Finn’s house.

Solo’s eyes got wide and huge. He clutched at Finn’s arms but didn’t fight back.

“Why are you following me?” Finn demanded. “Scratch that: why have you been following me the whole week?”

“…What do you want from me?” Solo suddenly blurted out.

“Um, dude.” Finn was so bewildered he even let Solo go. “You’re kinda mixing up things. _You’re_ the one who’s been spying on me.”

“You wanted to help!” Solo frustratedly ran his hands through his hair. “You must have wanted something from me. What is it?”

Finn stared, speechless. The dude — no, the dude seriously thought no-one would help him just because. Wow, Solo’s life must have been really shitty.

“Nothing,” he settled for the short answer, because Solo definitely wouldn’t have appreciated the sympathy. “Really, nothing. Just thought I’d help. Getting your notes stepped on is just nasty, man, I can attest to that. The worst thing is, I just _had_ to drop my shit near the bathroom. The things those soles might have touched, man… I shudder to think of them, I do.”

“But you don’t even know me,” it was almost painful to watch the confusion on Solo’s face. Finn used to think he got the short straw, but next to Solo, he was apparently practically living a dream.

“Actually, I do, man. You’re Ben Solo, we’re in a class together, remember?”

“Solo… Oh, I get it now.” Wow, Finn never even knew it was possible for someone’s face to switch from lost to derisive in such a short time. “You want something from my parents, don’t you? Sorry to disappoint, but I can’t help you with that.” Solo bit his lip and mumbled, nearly inaudibly: “Not like they ever listen to me, anyway.”

Finn laughed. Not _at_ Solo, mind you — just, the dude was funny. Definitely a drama queen. A really sad drama queen with lots of issues and also apparently neglectful parents. Now that Finn thought of it, Mrs. Organa must have always been busy governing the state, and Han Solo… Finn knew the type. The dude probably just wasn’t parent material.

“No hidden agenda, promise,” he smiled. Solo still looked distrustful. His lower lip was chewed raw and was actually bleeding a bit. Finn stared at it, feeling that familiar itch rise from inside…

“Hey. Wanna be friends?” Uh-oh, here we go again… “I promise I won’t ask you to get me your mom’s panties.”

“What?”

“What? Your mom’s kinda hot,” she was! The sexiest governor in the US — the press and Finn totally agreed on that. “Chill, dude, I’m joking.”

“I do hope so,” Solo didn’t smile but he looked a bit less broody. Finn counted it as an achievement. Wait, not Solo — that was now Ben for him, if they were actually going to be friends… “If we are actually going to be friends, please try to keep your jokes a bit less plebeian.”

“I like Nicki Minaj,” Finn said, just to enjoy the look of horror on Ben’s face.

Man, once again his love of rescuing strays got him in potentially deep shit. He could imagine the reaction at school — not that he cared, because his friends were chill and trusted him to do his thing, and the amount of fucks Finn gave about other people’s opinions went down to _negative_. He could also imagine Nines’ and Zeroes’ reactions — that might pose a real problem, because he _lived_ with them. It would probably go like…

* * *

“That _loser_? Wow, your new friend suits you just right,” Nines laughed.

“Just scrape some dog shit off your boot and get it friendship bracelets, it’ll stink less anyway,” Zeroes added.

Slip snickered. He was sporting a fresh shiner again. Zeroes and Nines didn’t care enough to protect him, or at least teach him how to fight, and Slip wouldn’t tell Finn what happened because help from Finn was ‘uncool’. He was a little dude, too short for his 13 years and not that strong. He used to worship Finn as much as he did his brothers until he was 11 or so. Finn remembered Slip back then: nose always runny, hands and knees constantly covered in scratches, and that shine in his eyes whenever Slip looked at Finn. Like Finn was a hero.

Finn sighed.

“Whatever dudes. Just leave him alone, will you?”

Jess once asked him how he was so sure that Zeroes and Nines would actually listen to him in the rare cases he asked them to do something. The answer was simple: he was smarter than the two _(three)_ of them, and he fought dirty when he had to. Finn let them call him names, but when he told them to do shit, Zeroes and Nines went and did shit with only a little shit-talking.

Ben was relatively safe for now — from Finn’s own adoptive brothers, at least.

Shit, Jess was going to have the laugh of her life when he told her where his love of helping little ungrateful shits got him this time (okay, Ben was a _tall_ ungrateful shit, Finn had to give him that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looooove Nicki Minaj.  
> Finn loves Nicki Minaj also, b/c she bad.  
> [*cue Nicki Minaj being beautiful and singing like an angel*](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54zpFh0KuK0&index=35&list=PLRenhQjuCDJbBODrk9QhEAVNcwRo5X7FB)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a 2 chapter update for you, because I love you, you precious people *3* And may William Shakespeare forgive me for my gross mistreatment of “Hamlet”.  
> (Chef Ben is totally a thing. [Adam Driver said so.](http://i.imgur.com/hVVIdkr.gif) You gotta trust Adam Driver.)

Being friends with Ben was actually surprisingly OK. Sure, the dude was grumpy, dramatic, and short-tempered, loved to call Finn names and break Finn’s stuff when he was unhappy about something (usually his mom being away for the weekend — _again_ — or his dad being an ass, or the world in general sucking dick.) He always bought Finn new things though, nicer and more expensive than the broken ones, like he was afraid Finn would leave him over something so stupid as a broken phone.

(Finn was _totally_ going to leave him over the damn broken phone.)

(…Shit, whom was he kidding.)

(That one time, Ben even apologized. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. If you chose to interpret it that way.)

Ben also made killer lasagna, and his brownies were God’s personal gift to Finn. Okay, Finn might be weak and easily seduced by great food, but Ben could seriously slay at _Kitchen from Hell_. His coffee, though — his coffee was blacker than burning tar from the cauldrons of hell, and pretty much impossible to survive unless you were a mutant (or Ben Solo).

If asked, Ben would probably say, “I prefer my coffee black and smoldering… like my soul,” so Finn never asked, in order to protect himself from an unfortunate death of secondhand embarrassment.

“I could do your homework for you, you know,” Ben said once, about two weeks into their friendship. They hung out at Ben’s place, huge and always so empty. Ben was practically a giant, already 6’2” tall and not even out of school yet, but even he looked small in that huge, grand, perfectly furnished house. Everything about it denoted elegance and refinement — Ben in his black skinny jeans and a Green Day sweatshirt stuck out like a sore thumb. His own room was the only one that actually looked like him, with the shitload of posters and the mess and furniture older than Ben and Finn combined.

Finn had been going to answer but he felt he needed to pay proper attention to the ice cream moustache on Ben’s face.

He chortled.

“What?” Ben demanded.

“Nothing man, you just finally grew some ‘stache,” Ben was hell-bent on growing an actual beard. Finn said nothing because he wisely figured the world was safe from Bearded Ben for another year or two, anyway.

Ben flipped him the finger and licked the ice cream off his face. Ice cream was Ben’s kryptonite. Shhh… don’t tell anyone, but if you showed up on Ben’s doorstep and suggested buying his soul for a bucket of some vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce, you had a sure deal in your pocket.

“I believe I asked you a question,” Ben sure could be haughty when he wanted to. It was actually kinda annoying.

“Oh, the homework. Thanks man, I’ll pass.”

“But I do it for Snoke and Hux and Phasma, doing it for you too is no problem,” Ben insisted.

He was usually hanging out with Finn these days, except for when Finn was catching up with his other friends. Finn kept inviting him to their table, but Ben always declined with great scorn and the look in his eyes that Finn quickly learned to identify as ‘scared shitless, do not come near unless you want your hand bitten off’.

When Finn was away Ben usually joined the gang. He still insisted on licking their asses. He called it a diplomatic ‘alliance’, but no dignified words could cover what was essentially ass-licking. Finn kept silent, though. It was Ben’s decision to make; Finn’s job was to protect him from assholes and provide comic relief. Ben was actually starting to smile these days — it looked nice on him, though his rare smiles were still awkward and uncertain.

‘You don’t need to buy my friendship,’ Finn wanted to say.

“Nah,” he said. “How will I learn things if you do my shit for me? Your… friends don’t really need to study, they’ve got their future cut out for them. I don’t.”

Ben blinked, looking irrationally upset.

“But you can explain to me things I don’t get, if you wanna,” Finn added as an afterthought. This could actually prove to be useful. “Like, I’m shit at lit. Hey, that rhymed!” (Ben sarcastically clapped.) “And I can help you with something, too. I know you’re smart and probably don’t need it, but…”

“I’d like some help with math,” Ben said.

“…I’m really good at math.…What? Oh. Cool. It’s a deal, then.”

Ben magnanimously nodded. Finn seized his chance and ate the ice cream from Ben’s spoon while Ben was distracted.

Ben screeched and shoved some ice cream down his shirt — and thus the epic battle began.

When the victor and the fallen, both sticky and shivering, noticed how late it was, it was already too late for Finn to go home. Or at least Ben claimed so, immediately suggesting a sleepover.

“I’ve got plenty of room here,” he said, and made that sad expression Finn didn’t like on him, so he immediately caved and said yes. He didn’t call home — no-one cared anyway.

* * *

The next day was a perfect lazy Sunday Finn never had before. He didn’t have his shift in McDonald’s until tomorrow, his brothers weren’t around to shout and fight and occasionally throw pillows that always ended up hitting Finn on the ear or the ass, the food was great, the sheets were soft, and his homework was…

_Shit._

“Ben,” Finn wheezed. He was actually a little out of breath: the Solos’ house was so huge Finn still got lost sometimes, and he _had_ been running. “Ben. I need your help.”

“Have you somehow acquired a six-figure debt overnight?” Ben suspiciously asked. “And not that I mind, but maybe please consider putting on some pants?”

Finn looked down. Indeed, he was in his boxers only. This might have been mortifying in other circumstances, but…

“Ben,” he turned his wild stare back on his friend. “We’ve got an essay on _Hamlet_ due tomorrow, right?”

_Please tell me we don’t, please tell me we…_

“Duh. But of course — oh no. Don’t tell me you haven’t finished it yet.”

“I haven’t even started,” Finn confessed. “I just… don’t get it. It’s so stupid!”

“ _You’re_ stupid,” Ben hissed venomously. Okay, point taken: Shakespeare was a tender spot. “Have you even tried to actually read it?”

“I did! But I didn’t understand a word of that flowery Renaissance mumbo jumbo.”

“What do you remember about the plot?” Ben thoughtfully stroked his chin. Finn itched to remind him he didn’t have a beard yet, and wouldn’t for a long long _long_ time.

“Um, a lot of angsty shit? A ghost, talk, talk, more talk, Polonius dies, some more talk, Ophelia dies, more talk, everybody dies. Exciting.”

“Yes.…I do believe it’s exciting, in a way,” Ben had that faraway look which indicated that he was going to present one of his speeches. Normally Finn wouldn’t be too happy about it, but this time he hoped he could scavenge some essay material. “In fact, Hamlet is my favorite character, ever.”

“Oh yeah?” Finn said. He hoped he sounded interested enough.

“Yes. I’ve always felt like he’s the only honest and real person in a world where everybody lies and pretends. In fact, his mad ramblings are really a nice ‘fuck you’ to all those liars and hypocrites who don’t care who killed the previous king as long as the current one keeps feasting. Hamlet is telling the truth all the time, and nobody believes him, because the truth sounds too insane to be real.

“If you think about it, Hamlet is the only decent man out there. Of course he had to die.”

Ben suddenly looked so sad for some reason. Finn had a strong feeling he totally identified with Hamlet for extra drama. He frantically searched for words that might dispel Ben’s melancholy…

“Can you please check my essay?” he asked. “I’ll try to get it done by the evening.”

“No problem.” The room felt suddenly full of angst. Finn cringed.

“I’ll just… um… get going,” he stuttered.

“Get down here in ten minutes, breakfast’s almost done!” Honestly, sometimes Ben was totally the annoying doting mom Finn never had.

* * *

Finn reluctantly dug into Google and emerged about six hour later, exhausted, slightly woozy and wide-eyed. He looked around and noticed Ben sleeping on the bed.

The laptop was much nicer than the one Finn had at home, which the four of them had to share (Nines had some really weird taste in porn). Finn admired it a bit, until he remembered, _‘Shit. The breakfast.’_

He then promptly discovered said breakfast on the table, to his right. Though cold, it still smelled delicious. Finn dug in and suddenly remembered, _‘This is a guest bedroom. What is Ben doing on my bed.’_

A sleeping Ben looked like a little kid — he even drooled a bit. Finn took a picture for blackmail purposes, and then suddenly realized he had no pictures of them together. This was totally not a bro thing, so Finn resolved to fix this at once. He sat down on the floor near the head of the bed, and wiggled around until both their faces fit into the selfie nicely. Ben looked hella peaceful on the screen, so Finn made his most impish face and pressed the button.

“Wha,” a sleepy Ben arose and was now blinking, his hair flat on one side and sticking out in the unlikeliest directions on the other. “Finn. What — _a mighty yawn_ — what time is it.”

Finn told him.

“Shit,” Ben paled. “Mom is supposed to be coming home any minute now!”

“That’s — generally a good thing, right?”

“Of course it is, stupid. I wanted to make her favorite pie, and now I don’t have the time,” Finn had never seen Ben this upset.

“Well, then make it tomorrow?”

“Oh, thanks, Mr. Genius! What would I do without this valuable insight?” Ben usually got this nasty only when he was really distressed.

“I mean — your mom’ll stay for tomorrow, right?”

“Fuck if I know. She rarely does. These days, she’s been getting around more than ever — hasn’t been home for two weeks now.”

Ben’s phone chimed. He read the text and froze, biting his lip and blinking.

“What is it?” The evening was just getting better and better.

“She won’t be home for another four days,” Ben said hollowly. “Guess the pie’ll have to wait.”

He looked like he would fall apart in Finn so much as breathed in his general direction. So Finn said the stupidest thing he could say:

“Check my essay?”

“What?” Ben looked at him like he didn’t hear him.

“My essay. It’s done.”

“Oh. Okay,” he took the laptop from Finn and scrunched his nose as Finn threw himself on the bed to peek at the screen over Ben’s shoulder.

* * *

“This is — surprisingly decent. I take it you liked the play?” Ben asked. Thankfully squabbling over dangling modifiers had distracted him a bit.

“Yeah. I’ll have to reread it again… even though the language is still barely legible.”

Ben smiled, self-satisfied. His stomach gurgled.

“Oh, um. Sorry, I guess I’ll go make us something to eat.”

“You do that.”

“Hey, I’m not your housewife!”

“You’re the one who offered!” Before Ben could get any more incensed, Finn quickly said, “I really liked the ending. Of, you know, the play.”

“Hm? I thought you didn’t like tragic endings?”

"Well, it wasn’t that tragic. Hamlet still won, right? He got one over them."

"Except that involved dying," Ben drily noted.

"Well, he just had shit friends. Except for Horatio. The dude was gnarly."

"Are you even serious." But Ben's lips twitched like he wanted to laugh, which was essentially the effect Finn wanted.

It was nice to laugh with him. His friends were awesome, but still just that — friends. Ben felt like family. Probably because Ben’s own family consisted of douchebags, just like Finn’s.

And also maybe because it sometimes felt like Finn was all Ben had.

It felt like a huge responsibility. Ben was already plenty fucked up; Finn had to tread extra carefully to unfuck him as much as he could. It was scary; it was kind of awesome, to be this needed. Also, Ben really was a cool dude, if somewhat dramatic.

As Ben screamed at him to get down for dinner across half the house, Finn decided that helping the weird kid with his notes had been a pretty swell idea.

* * *

The dinner was awesome. No, scratch that: A-W-E-S-O-M-E, in all caps. A dinner this good had to be properly worshipped, with appropriate noises and facial expressions, in the atmosphere of love and harmony and general good spirits.

Of course Ben just had to decide he was feeling extra whiny today.

Finn was munching on the steak, half-listening to Ben’s stories of hurt and betrayal (AKA family dinners). Of course he was curious about Ben’s family — though shit parents, they were still kinda cool in other ways. But Ben was whinging so much his plate was still almost full. It wasn’t the most soothing accompaniment to have dinner to.

Finn took a deep breath, steeled himself, and dug into the potatoes. Which — _mmmmm_. They were just potatoes, they had no right to taste this good.

“—and mom is always busy and tired — she never shows it on public but she gets really tired at work — and father is never there. He won't even let me drive his car. He did once, when I was six, and mom had him sleep on the couch for a month. I think he doesn't realize I’m already old enough to drive and mom won't give him any more shit for letting me.”

“Mmm,” Finn said, more in regard to the potatoes than to Ben’s woes. Seriously, dude, there was _a time and a place._

“I also have an uncle and a grampa, but they're always away doing stuff.”

“What stuff?” Now that was interesting. Finn never knew Ben had any family other than his parents.

“Like anyone ever tells me," Ben sulked. “Some secret politician stuff, I guess. I think gramps used to be a communist.”

“Woah, so he’s what, like Agent Romanoff?”

“...Shut up. And get me brain bleach. Fuck, he even wears leather pants. How am I supposed to live with this.”

Finn snickered and chucked a pea at Ben’s forehead. Spot on!

A moment later, another epic battle erupted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter some transitory het before the main slash pairing. The boys are growing up and embarking on their self-discovery journey. (Which involves some non-explicit het sex. Ye be warned.)  
> For the purposes of this story, Maz Kanata looks like [Lupita](http://41.media.tumblr.com/3f642d8ad2af96fa3c642828cfef6557/tumblr_nmrfwfjsRi1s7xduro1_500.jpg) [Nyong’o](http://45.media.tumblr.com/09b7f57cebfcc7a0e23500609c999505/tumblr_o1izknq0xs1roi2doo3_250.gif), only shorter.

Ben was officially a bitch. Finn hated him.

“Where’s your emo bitch friend? Haven’t seen his ass lately,” Jess asked. She was a rad bro, but sometimes she could be kind of rash. Finn didn’t approve, which he politely conveyed to her _several times already, damn it._

“Okay, okay, chill! Where’s _Ben_ ,” Jess placatingly raised her hands at his No-Calling-My-Bro-Names face. “Did you two fight again?”

“No,” Finn grumbled. Jess looked at him like he said _yes_ , which… okay, it was essentially true. Kinda. Sorta. In a way.

Finn didn’t argue with Ben! Ben argued _at_ him for a good ten minutes and then dramatically left. Then he came back because it was his own room he left, and they’d been watching a nice movie, and all had been well until Ben suddenly thought it was high time to scream Finn’s head off.

Finn didn’t even remember the reason! Probably because there hadn’t been one. They’d been laughing at something and then there was that hot chick who kind of looked like Sam…

Now that Finn thought of it, he said something about how Sam’s boobs were totally better and firmer than the movie chick’s, and then Ben got all snappy and bitey. But hey, it wasn’t Finn’s fault Ben was still a virgin!

Not that Finn would bring it up. Ever. To Ben, or anybody else.

And not that being in a relationship felt that great either… Sure, the sex was fun (well, it wasn’t like Finn had much space for comparison, but being with Sam felt good, and her body was awesome), but outside of the sex it had been going pretty boring lately. Sam constantly wanted more attention, and it was starting to get really tiresome. She also didn’t like Ben for some reason. Sure, Sam was nice in Ben’s presence but when they were alone she always picked on him. Ben returned the sentiment with a burning passion, always going on about how Sam was essentially an ugly hoe (well, he said it in longer, more convoluted words, but the spirit was the same), and how Finn deserved better.

At first Finn had been just happy he finally got a girlfriend, but he was starting to seriously regret his choices. Yes, the sex was nice… but _so_ not worth it.

Sam _wasn’t_ a hoe, though. She was pretty, nice, smart, and cool. Finn would just… much rather spend his time with Ben playing the Xbox. It was weird; people generally didn’t feel that way about their sexy girlfriends. But Finn already got over his unnatural preference for _Call of Duty_ over hot chicks and now just wished she’d stop talking to him on the phone for two hours straight (as if they weren’t seeing each other at school enough! Finn just didn’t _get it_.)

After their epic one-sided fight yesterday, Ben stormed off, lurked around the house for about half an hour, then came back looking aloof and independent.

Finn went to the kitchen and made him hot chocolate. He brought the steaming mug to Ben’s room as a peace offering. (He wasn’t above apologizing even when he wasn’t sure what he did wrong. Ben would _never_ apologize for anything ever, so Finn figured someone should.)

Ben looked at the mug, and coldly said, “Hmph.”

It was the ‘get the fuck out of my room you worthless scum’ kind of ‘hmph’, so Finn silently got out and went to the guest room that everyone in the house was now referring to as ‘Finn’s’.

When Ben was in one of his moods he got insufferable. Finn briefly thought about going back to his own house but no-one there was expecting him to show up anyway, so he abandoned the idea. In the year and a half since they became friends, Finn had practically moved to the Solos’ place. It was nicer and had nicer company, and nobody was complaining, so.

Of course, he wasn’t just some shitty freeloader who lived off his richer friend. He made himself useful! He peeled potatoes for Ben’s cooking experiments and, um... the housemaids took care of the rest? Still, Finn was one wicked potato peeler! He got a lot of practice.

He also made the best hot chocolate in the state, or so people claimed. Jess was a sucker for his hot chocolate, always moaning loudly and showering it with praise. So was Ben; he was less abundant in his commendation, but he always drank it before it cooled down to a comfortable temperature, and never refused seconds.

Finn found the empty cup in the washer the next day, but Ben himself was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t even answering his phone. At first Finn got a bit worried, and now he was getting seriously worried because this was _Ben_ , a walking disaster even if he was practically living in the home gym now. His biceps might have become truly great but his ability to get his ass into deep shit was even greater, and Finn was so distracted he wasn’t even noticing what he was chewing.

“No way!” Jessika suddenly exclaimed. “Could it possibly be that your majesty finally deigned to show your royal ass to us mere mortals?”

“Awww, don’t tell me you were worried,” Ben sneered. He looked no worse than he did yesterday, and Finn breathed a sigh of relief.

“ _I_ was worried, you idiot!” he poured all his brotherly love and concern into a hearty bonk on Ben’s stupid head.

“Ow,” Ben rubbed his head and frowned. Shit, did Finn hit him that hard?

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” a shrill cry pierced Finn’s ears. It came from a girl that was practically wrapped around Ben — Finn could only wonder how he hadn’t noticed her sooner. Well, to be fair, he _had_ been really worried…

“Um. Hi? And you’re…” he smiled awkwardly. Finn usually _never_ smiled awkwardly, but the girl seemed to be a special case. She was weird, crawling all over Ben. Which — well, _congrats_ to him on the chance to finally pop his cherry, and the girl was kind of really pretty, curvy and blonde with pouty lips, but the way she nearly sat in his lap was practically indecent.

Not that Finn was a prude, but this was a school cafeteria.

And was that lipstick on Ben’s ear? (And also other places, mostly but not limited to his face.)

“This is Jen,” Ben announced. He didn’t sound too happy, Finn thought. Maybe he preferred Xbox to hot girls, too? But wasn’t it too early for him to find out?

“Nice to meet you,” Jen beamed at Jessika and the others, pointedly not looking at Finn.

And thus the epic feud of Best Bro and Grating Girlfriend began.

* * *

Sam finally dumped Finn with a great scandal. To be honest, he had suspected it might go this way. She was always so emotional, and they clearly hadn’t been working out.

Now don’t get him wrong, she was a fun girl, and the sex was great. (See: ‘emotional’.) But Finn just wasn’t feeling it. They didn’t click the way he and Jessika did, or even he and Ben did. They were two strangers in one bed, connected skin to skin but never going deeper. (Well, in a metaphorical way. They did go deeper in a physical way, which was nice, but Sam always wanted to cuddle and _talk_ afterwards, so lately he had been kinda avoiding it.)

The worst thing was that Sam genuinely tried, and Finn just couldn’t bring himself to _want_ this relationship to work out.

Still, the scandal thing caught him unprepared. On that day, Finn discovered with great trepidation that the sight of a crying girl absolutely stupefied him. It was a new, enlightening and a decidedly unpleasant experience. Finn briefly considered taking monastic vows to avoid any possible repeat occurrences.

“Go fuck yourself,” Sam finally screamed, mascara running down her red, blotchy face. It was a good thing they were alone in the park, with only some bored ducks to see the scene. Finn felt a piercing pang of guilt through his general current state of ‘I’m really really sorry, now can please I say so and we never see each other again?’ “Or better yet, go fuck that ugly nerd friend of yours!”

Finn laughed.

Seriously, it was so ridiculous that anyone would call Ben ugly ever. Ben wasn’t ugly. Ben had a killer body, great hair, and a smile that was like the sun, only better.

Sam stopped, breathed through clenched teeth, and slapped him.

Wow, she sure could pack a punch. Finn kinda rattled in place. Sam strode away, sniffing angrily and unsuccessfully trying to wipe mascara off her cheeks. Finn sent an obligatory weak, “Sorry!” her way, but even he noticed he didn’t sound sorry enough. The Ben thing did him in. He breathed in… and started to laugh again.

It was all so damn funny. Sam being jealous of Ben and the way Finn supposedly spent 90% of his free time with him (an inaccurate assessment to say the least, Finn himself would estimate it as roughly 75% or so), Sam accusing him of being gay for his best friend, Sam calling Ben ugly… The latter part was honestly the funniest. Finn took a deep breath and turned towards the exit, still chuckling.

“Congratulate me, I’m single again!” he cheerfully announced the moment he was at Ben’s place. Ben was cooking something that smelt gut-wrenchingly delicious. He stuck his head out of the kitchen.

“You don’t sound too sad,” he observed.

“Sure, Sam’s hot, but she’s kinda stupid. No great loss,” Finn announced, and went in to raid the kitchen despite Ben’s avid protests.

* * *

Ben’s girlfriend persisted. Finn sometimes suspected Ben got together with her out of sheer spite, because he had been sorta flaunting her in front of Finn, like he was angry that Finn got to have sex before him. Now, though, he just looked alternatively long-suffering and plain old suffering when he was with her. Which was all the time because Jen sought him out at school like a radar. Ben never allowed her into his house, though. He might have spun some bullshit about how his house was a heavily-guarded zone with a minefield in the garden and pet venomous snakes scouting for infiltrators. Variations on the theme worked rather successfully on other undesired people, and Jen never insisted (much) that he invited her to sleep over, so Finn made some deductions.

The one thing he was unable to deduce, though, was why Ben stayed with her at all. The faces he would make when she called him! To Finn, they looked like a case of severe gastric disease. Jen was even more talkative than Sam, and she really loved the sound of her own voice, and her topics of interest included nothing remotely like Xbox games, Romantic poets and workouts.

Finn suspected Ben was just at a loss how to dump her and avoid having his eyes clawed out. Jen had really long, really sharp nails, so Finn definitely commiserated.

Well, at least now Ben complained more about his girlfriend than his parents. In a year and a half since he and Finn became friends, Finn saw the Solos a grand total of two or three times. Leia was always either still at work or sleeping already, and sometimes on trips half across the planet. Han Solo was just a very elusive dude. Nobody knew where he was half the time (including his own son.) Rumor had it that he was a smuggler. Then there was another rumor floating around, of Han Solo secretly being a stripper. (Seemed legit, in Finn’s opinion. Ben’s dad was _hot_. As a totally heterosexual male, Finn was able to fully and objectively appreciate the hotness that was Ben’s DILF of a father.) Jess was sticking to a different opinion; she was convinced Han Solo was actually James Bond. Her argument consisted of statements like the fact that Han had the coolest car ever, and _Have you ever seen his face, Finn? If that ain’t James Bond I don’t know what is._  
Finn tended to agree. However, he wished that said hot dad paid a little more attention to his own son. Ben was always scoffing and sneering at the mere sound of his father’s name, but Finn could see how desperate Ben was for his father to just be there for him. When Han Solo came home Ben would always argue with him, then run away to his room and lock the door. That looked kinda ridiculous, considering he was already two inches taller than his dad. Leia would sigh, Han would swear, Ben would brood, and Finn would slink off to his guest room wishing he was older, wiser and knew how to fix things.

Then Ben would scratch at his door, and climb into his bed, and they would lie together in the darkness in a totally heterosexual way — sometimes quietly talking, scattered slivers of words dissolving in the darkness, their bodies pressed together saying just as much if not more; and sometimes they would say nothing at all, just quietly breathing and taking in the heat of another’s body.

On nights like these, it sometimes seemed to Finn that Ben was his only rock to cling to in the vast, stormy sea that were his mess of a family, his uncertain (to put it mildly) future, his weird troubles with girls. Ben was there, and Finn just knew he always would be, even if he’d bash things against the wall sometimes because he couldn’t bench-press 280 yet.

Finn wondered if Ben ever felt the same way.

These days, his ramblings in the dark mostly revolved around Jen being a pain in the butt and not understanding his soul. It was kinda boring to listen to, but at least Ben would fall asleep like a baby after he whinged as much as he wanted. Jen never made him sad the way his mom and dad did. Ben never missed her as much as he missed his mom when she would spend the night at work for a whole week in a row, _again_ ; Ben never got angry at Jen the way he did at his father when Han Solo would remember his fatherly duties and awkwardly try to discipline him, or just disappear without telling anyone where he went. Jen was a safe topic because ultimately, Ben didn’t care about her at all.

It seemed so very sad to Finn that Ben didn’t even _like_ his first girlfriend. Finn, at least, had been crazy about Sam for a week or two, before she started to get jealous around Ben.

* * *

Finn had a new girlfriend, and he was crazy about her.

Ben skulked about, shrouded in angst. He was probably jealous of Finn’s girl. Which was totally understandable, because the whole world had to be jealous of Finn’s girl.

Maz was awesome. She was also cool and sexy and really really nice, and never complained (unlike a certain someone) that he wasn’t paying enough attention. She was a year older but she had such a cute round baby face you wouldn’t be able to tell she was older than Finn in a million years. She was tiny (even next to Finn), not as pretty as Sam but so confident and just plain _bad_ you couldn’t help but admire her. She had a buzz cut and plush lips and a blinding smile, and God help him, Finn was in _love_.

Meanwhile, Ben’s girlfriend was having the time of her life. For some fucked-up reason, Ben was staunchly refusing to dump her. In fact, he took to spending more time with her than ever. Jen was ecstatic, and Ben was permanently sporting a slightly green look these days.

Whenever he wasn’t making out with Jen, he was studying or working out. Finn tried to keep up with him, but it was futile. Somehow over this year and a half, Ben became a monster. A creature of the gym. His pecs were _unreal_. Finn couldn’t in all honesty judge Jen for constantly feeling Ben up in the cafeteria for the whole school to see; there was a lot of chiseled muscle to feel up.

One day when Maz had some volunteer work to do, Finn found himself with a free evening on his hands and not much to do but go stalk Ben in the gym.

“ _Dude_ , do you _live_ here now?” were his first words as he took in the iPad, the hoard of coffee-stained mugs, the huge wobbly pile of textbooks, and some dirty socks that were lying around looking sad and abandoned.

Ben glanced at him from under soaking wet hair.

“What are you doing here, not running around after Maz like a puppy?” he probably meant to say it snidely, but he was out of breath and greedily gulping down air, so he didn’t exactly succeed.

“She’s busy today. Mind if I join you?” Ben seemed to have changed somehow. He seemed thinner, bony even, and his cheekbones were sharp enough to cut. He looked.…well, unhappy. Finn wondered how he could have missed it.

“Whatever,” Ben shrugged and got a towel to wipe his forehead.

Finn tried to keep up, he really did. He got so sweaty his shirt actually dripped, so he had to take it off. But Ben was unstoppable, a machine that silently sweated and did push-ups until Finn got dizzy just looking at him.

“I give up,” Finn finally wheezed, his body long turned into aching jelly. “You’re a beast, man, can’t keep up with you.”

Finn wasn’t too shabby himself. Girls usually ogled his bod on the beach, and guys had nothing bad to say about it. He did work out, he just wasn’t as… intense about it as Ben was.

Ben stared at him, his already red face slowly going even darker. He even stopped with his push-ups.

“What?” Finn said. He was trying to wipe off his back, but his shaking hands wouldn’t lift and bend the proper way. “Hey man, help me out with this?”

“I,” Ben said. Well, more like _squeaked_. “I need, uh. Water. In the, um, kitchen. Be right back,” he ran off like he was afraid Finn was going to eat him. Finn shrugged — there was like a dozen water bottles on the table next to him, if Ben didn’t want to touch his sweaty body he should have just said so, Finn wouldn’t get angry.

Eventually he managed to maneuver his hands enough to wipe off the rivers of sweat streaming down his back. Ben never came back. When Finn got out of the gym — slowly, like an old man — he heard the shower running.

* * *

Maz suggested a double date. Finn thought it was a marvelous idea. Any idea of Maz’ was a marvelous idea in his book, but he also missed Ben. He did try to spend more time with him after the time in the gym, but it seemed that Ben was now actively avoiding him. Not even Jen knew where he was most of the time, and she had that thing — Ben radar. Bendar? Finn was totally convinced it was a thing.

He missed his friend. Ben’s absence physically hurt, like a splinter in his side; always there, dull and aching, never allowing him to rest. Ben was supposed to be the one thing that stayed, and then he didn’t, and the world wasn’t whole and right anymore. Finn moped. Maz seemed sad every time she looked at him, and that made Finn angry in addition to mopey, because no-one was allowed to make Maz sad, least of all himself.

So when Maz suggested a double date, Finn readily agreed. Jen was also on board, because apparently Ben had been avoiding her, too. Thus, by majority rule, they captured Ben and dragged him to the tiny restaurant nearby that served the greatest pizza in the world.

At first everything seemed awesome. Ben was there, and Maz was there, and the pizza was good, and Jen even wasn’t too irritating. Finn was blissful.

And then Maz had to start talking about Othello.

Well, originally it all had started with Tennessee Williams and his _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_. It was the play Ben loved most, alongside _Hamlet_. He introduced Finn to Tennessee Williams and insisted that Finn read at least that one play. Ben made a good lit teacher, enthusiastic if somewhat short-tempered, and before Finn knew it he found himself talking poetry with Ben over lunch.

He used to love math for being simple and straightforward. He liked how there was an equation for everything; he used to wish real life was that easy to solve. But Ben showed him that literature, too, was fascinating, if you looked at it the right way.

Apart from Shakespeare and Romanticism, Ben particularly appreciated Russian writers and modern American literature. Finn still thought Dostoyevsky was sorta boring, but Chekhov’s plays captivated him, and he was an honest-to-God fan of Tennessee Williams, courtesy of Ben’s.

He even went to the theater to see _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ , the first time he’d ever been to a theater. The actors were mediocre, according to Ben (who dragged him there), but it didn’t matter. The actor who played Brick sometimes improvised his lines (Finn knew, because he had the whole play memorized to a near perfection), but it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that he suddenly realized, with a burning clarity:

_He wanted to stand on that stage. He wanted to play Brick._

Somehow, he _knew_ he could. He could become Brick, or Stanley, or Gayev, or even Hamlet. He could make them come alive on the stage, bring to life those men made out of ink and paper.

He told Ben, because he told Ben everything (sometimes Ben actually complained about it, citing ‘too much information.’ Not like it ever stopped Finn…)

“I heard there were classes for that,” Ben said. And just like that, Finn was studying acting.

It was harder than he ever imagined — making the audience really believe you, handling the emotional turmoil that came with a role.

Finn absolutely loved it.

Acting was his biggest passion, and sometimes Finn cautiously allowed himself to imagine it as his future. He knew it was madness. The job of a theatrical actor was risky; it was uncertain; it depended heavily on talent, and even more heavily on sheer luck. It wasn’t the steady job with a steady income Finn used to imagine. It had a 90% chance of ending up with Finn living in a cardboard box.

It was everything he could dream of.

He knew he could ask Leia for college money, and she’d give it to him. She liked him in her own stern, shrewd way; she did care deeply about her son, and she was okay with Finn as soon as she made sure he wasn’t a bully, or an infiltrator sent by her political enemies to secretly corrupt and/or kidnap her son.

But he wanted to make his own way in life. And he wanted to make it a worthy one.

“So, you still shaking from the audition?” Maz asked, lazily picking peppers off her slice of pizza. She was downright mean sometimes. Apparently Finn loved mean, too. There was a lot of mean in his life, and mostly he wasn’t complaining.

“Audition?” Ben asked. He had a tomato mustache from his pizza. Apparently Ben and ‘stache were meant to be a thing.

“Yeah. Yesterday, for the role of Othello, remember?”

“You haven’t told me you went,” Ben said, with that sharp undertone that meant he was hurt.

“I tried to, but I haven’t seen you the whole day, and your phone was out of reach,” Finn needed to tread lightly. Ben’s temper was better than it used to be a year before, but sometimes he would still spontaneously combust. Finn learned to be accepting and hide the dishes.

“Well, how’d it go?” Ben was hiding his eyes, which was never a good sign.

“I’ve no idea, man. I think I spent the whole time having a major meltdown, I barely remember anything.”

“Do you think you passed?”

“Fuck knows. If I did you’d be the first one I’d tell, you know that man. Actually, if I didn’t…”

“You’d whine to me until my ears fell off. You’re such a whiny bitch.”

“Pot, kettle,” Finn grinned. Snarky Ben was good. Much better than mopey Ben, at least.

And then Ben started talking on the symbolism of _Othello_ , which meant much shouting and hand-waving, plenty of exasperated glances from Jen and no other conversation topics for the rest of the evening. Maz seemed interested enough, though. She could be polite enough to fake interest even if she didn’t actually give a rat’s ass about Othello’s woes, but it seemed she was genuinely enjoying the (mostly one-sided) discussion.

Finn loved it, the whole thing. His best friend and his girlfriend being near him, talking, arguing, laughing. He loved listening to Ben, whose observations were always astute and on point, and he loved riling him up because seeing an angry, hissing, spitting Ben defend his point of view on how Othello was actually the victim, was both funny and endearing. (And also sort of helpful. If Finn was going to play Othello, he needed to understand the character as fully as possible. Ben was definitely identifying too much with virtually all the protagonists in Shakespeare’s tragedies, but he always had something insightful to say about them.) Finn loved the talk so much the staff nearly had to kick them out because the place was closing (and Jen was dozing, and Maz was giving him that assessing look that always kinda scared him. Maz could be intense sometimes.)

Finn also loved the pizza, so overall it was a pretty much perfect evening.

So it was a bit unexpected _(try crazy)_ , when Maz told him the next day:

“Finn, I think we need to break up.”

So that was how it probably felt to be hit by a truck.

“Why?” Finn asked when he was able to breathe again. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. Nothing at all,” and _oh_ , she looked so sad, and suddenly Finn couldn’t think about anything but how Maz should never ever be sad. “I really like you, but we won’t ever work out.”

“Why?”

She smiled, somber but sure.

“You’ll know, in time. If you aren’t too thick and he isn’t too scared to tell you.”

Okay, _what_? Now Finn couldn’t even be properly upset about the shit that was happening, because he was too busy being confused.

Maz watched him. Before he could ask what the fuck was going on, she leaned in and gave him a short, gentle kiss. It felt feather-light, and tasted like farewell.

Then she left, walking fast, and Finn was left there standing, unable to move, feeling like his heart was torn out, lying bloody and seizing on the floor.

* * *

Finn got the role. Two rehearsals later, he was nearly kicked out.

“Listen buddy,” the director said after the rehearsal. He was a fierce little man who swore a lot, and was always flailing his hands to support his talk. “I don’t know what happened to you, and I don’t give a single shit. If you don’t quit your teenage angst and start _working_ , you can say goodbye to this role and this play.”

Finn nodded, turned around, and left.

The weirdest thing, he thought as he walked to Ben’s place, was that two weeks ago he would be heartbroken to hear that, and now he just didn’t care. He knew he should, but he really, really couldn’t. 

Maybe there was nothing left of his heart to break.

Ben was such a nuisance these days, mothering him so much it drove Finn crazy. He’d bring him food and do his homework (Finn didn’t protest. He didn’t even notice at first). And he was always there, like he hadn’t been avoiding Finn for days.

At first he’d angrily plot revenge against Maz, but Finn said:

“Shut up. You won’t touch her.”

And Ben shut up. His ensuing silence was even angrier, but Finn couldn’t really care.

He tried to reread _Othello_ but couldn’t finish it. He went to see Slip — he hadn’t seen him much lately; the boy grew up a little but he was still always covered in bruises and scratches. When Finn found him Slip was with his friends, speaking animatedly and laughing. Finn watched him from afar, then turned around and left.

When he came back home Ben pounced at him and dragged him down to the gym, and gave him the most intense workout in the history of ever. At first Finn was too distraught to protest, and then he was too busy sweating his lungs out.

In what felt like an eternity of endless pain and suffering but in reality was probably two hours, Finn just collapsed on the floor and refused to move.

“Want me to rub your back?” Ben asked.

“Can you?” In their relationship, Finn was always the back-rubber. Ben never deigned to rub anyone’s anything, so Finn wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to do that.

“Shut up,” Ben snapped, made him roll over, and started rubbing his back in what was clearly his first massage experience ever.

Finn smiled. It still felt good, and it was nice to know Ben cared.

He fell asleep right there on the floor, and woke up in his bed the next day. It was weird and kind of funny to imagine Ben carrying him all the way to his bedroom, but it was pretty much the only way he could get here.

It was rehearsal day, so Finn showered and went to the theater. After the rehearsal, the director took him to a far corner and asked:

“How do you feel son?”

“I’m okay, why?” Finn did feel okay, for the first time in two weeks. It felt so awesome to be okay, like he managed to pull his head above a black cloggy swamp, and finally, finally take a deep breath.

“Good. That’s good. I’m glad to see I don’t have to kick you out anymore,” the director clapped Finn on the shoulder.

Finn was suddenly glad too. He loved this — the exhausting work, memorizing the whole play by heart, repeating the same line time and time again until the director deemed it ‘not too bad’ and moved on. He was willing to work his ass of to have all of this in his life, and he definitely didn’t want to lose it.

He went back home and glomped Ben like there was no tomorrow.

“Get off me!” Ben screamed, red-faced, and tried to push him away.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Finn declared. “It’s gonna be awesome!” He loudly smooched Ben on the cheek. This right here was his very best friend, who’d stay by his side when nobody else would, and suddenly Finn felt so rich, like there was nothing else he could wish for.

“You’re sick,” Ben stopped weakly trying to get him off and suddenly started tickling him. It worked as well as ever; over the course of mere seconds, Finn was reduced to a boneless, flailing, giggling mess. Ben, being the vicious beast he was, wouldn’t stop tickling him for a good five minutes or so.

* * *

Ben finally got rid of his annoying girlfriend and was now avoiding her like the plague. Finn was supporting him by manfully containing his giggles when Ben hid behind his back whenever he saw a blonde head in the distance (which didn’t work too well, because Ben was almost a full head taller than Finn.)

Finn felt like he also mostly got over Maz. What had felt like the end of the world, suddenly… wasn’t. There still was that mute, painful longing, even though it was quieting down. After all, Maz was one of a kind even if she wasn’t Finn’s girl in the end. There was no-one like her; it wasn’t that easy to let go. Still, Finn was trying.

The performance day was approaching fast. The director looked mostly satisfied with Finn’s efforts, and Finn himself was feeling a weird combination of happy and scared shitless. Objectively, the play wasn’t such a huge thing, but for Finn, it felt like the biggest event of his life. He knew he was good, he’d practiced till he could perform flawlessly in his sleep… but still, he was terrified he’d screw up somehow.

The day before the performance, they rehearsed till their tongues got numb and they were dead on their feet. When Finn was walking (well, more like staggering) back to Ben’s place, he saw Maz from afar. She was with some really big, extremely hairy dude who was probably even taller than Ben. She was laughing, looking ridiculously happy.

Finn was probably supposed to feel jealous, but somehow he wasn’t. Looking at her smiling face, he couldn’t bring himself to be bitter.

But he did feel so ashamed that she never looked that happy when she was with him.

* * *

Ben made him take a shower, and Finn somehow didn’t even fall asleep inside. Then Ben stuffed him full of pie and took him to bed. It felt like Finn fell asleep before his butt even touched the bed.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Ben sitting on the floor near the bed, looking at him.

It was still night, but the moon was shining brightly enough for Finn to see Ben’s face. And there was so much silent pain in it that Finn’s heart clenched.

Ben didn’t seem to notice that Finn was awake. He was looking at him, biting his lips and looking the unhappiest Finn ever saw him. Then he reached out and stroked Finn’s cheek with his fingertips, feather-light.

Finn held his breath. He saw Ben’s face stop twitching and settle into a mask of determination. He saw Ben reach towards him, and closed his eyes so that Ben wouldn’t notice he was awake.

The kiss was so short and uncertain Finn’s lips barely felt it, but it felt like the world was shaking and crumbling and rebuilding itself. Finn absolutely didn’t expect it, even after seeing Ben watch him like that, even after seeing him lean in — and yet, it somehow felt like he had been expecting it his whole life.

Ben jolted away but Finn’s arms caught him and held him steady. Finn felt him shake, a fine tremor through Ben’s whole body.

“What?..” Ben said. Finn sat up in his bed, never letting Ben go. “…Shit.”

“I know, right,” Finn said. He looked at Ben, and could only think of one thing: _Maz was right all along._ “Let’s do it again?”

But Ben was still frozen, so Finn kissed him. It felt strange and so good Finn forgot to breathe. When he tried to take a breath Ben wouldn’t let him, clinging to him like he wanted to press inside his body and dissolve in his blood.

Finn looked at him and saw that Ben was smiling, hesitant and uncertain and bright like the sun, only better. He was smiling with his lips, his eyes, he was radiating happiness with his whole huge, dumb, gorgeous body — was that why Finn was suddenly feeling so warm?

He smiled back and kissed him, fully intent on never letting go. Breathing was overrated anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m obviously borrowing some biographical details from John Boyega, but I do believe he’s a lot like Finn in some aspects.  
> Regarding Sam... (who looks kinda [like this](http://i.imgur.com/5LI3K3V.jpg), in case you were curious...) Of course she’s not an ugly hoe, no matter what Ben might have to say on this matter. She’s just a lovely teenage girl who really liked someone... who really REALLY liked someone else, even if he hadn’t realized it back then.  
> P.S. Can you tell I really like both Maz and Lupita? Lol.

**Author's Note:**

> Not betaed OTL and kinda cracky but w/e.  
> Mostly born out of my passionate love for Finn and his cute, and a firm belief that everybody else should be in love with Finn also. (Jk jk... of course you may dislike him if you want to... but why would you want to? *makes puppy Finn eyes at you*)  
> At first I was like "lol at this silly ship I thought up while running on 1hr of sleep", but then I read some works here on AO3 and kinda... fell in love with Finn/Kylo in the course of planning out this baby. This ship is now a thing for me, and it should be a thing for you also. Because... *crickets chirp* ...they're totally cute together? *shuts up and slinks off*


End file.
